


their exploit/ers

by booooin



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Genre: Anarchy, Bodyguard, Childhood Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Manipulation, Military, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Violence, deconstructed bakurae characterizations, toxic masculinity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 16:51:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15271956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booooin/pseuds/booooin
Summary: Ryou is a highly capable soldier created by KaibaCorp. Bakura is a crazy person on a suicide mission. When Bakura buys Ryou as his bodyguard, they get up to all sort of shenanigans.Can be read as tendership or gemship, depending on what you prefer. Really, the type of Bakura involved kept changing in my head.





	their exploit/ers

When Ryou was seven, he killed a boy.

The building that housed his school was painted white - institutional. There were no windows, except in the offices. Lights were out at 10 PM and anyone caught out would have to find their own way back in the dark.

Kids sharpened rulers into shivs, carried scissors in the waistbands of their pants. You had these cliques that sprung up every year, playing political games with one another, only to dissolve with someone’s eye getting cut out or something worse. 

All the teachers hated Ryou. He didn’t talk until he was ten. The only reason he wasn’t kicked out was because he aced the tests.

The kid was older. He’d been held back. If he didn’t make something out of himself, he’d have to can it and no one wanted that to happen to them. Ryou was walking past his desk when the chair hit his head and he’d actually continued to take a few steps, the impact not really settling in right away.

It took an infinite second to turn his head around and, by that point, the kid was ready with a freshly sharpened pencil. A second too slow, and it would have pierced Ryou’s neck.

The wood splintered in Ryou’s shoulder and everyone in the classroom was jeering at him. The math teacher, Mr. Ishikawa, was standing very still at the front of the room, waiting for the fight to be over.

The kid leaned over someone’s desk and took out a big, shiny pair of scissors.

He was trying to kill him. There was no doubt in Ryou’s mind. Deaths weren’t common but the system allowed for them.

He knew the kid picked him because he didn’t have any friends. When you were held back, you lost your group and the easiest way to recruit a new one was to take out someone who didn’t have anyone else to watch their back.

The kid came for Ryou too quickly. He was too confident to watch his feet and that’s what Ryou went for. Then, his eyes were scanning the room, looking for anything sharp. 

The kid was already standing back up.

When Ryou pulled the pencil out from his shoulder, he didn’t even feel it. All he could see was the point of the scissors coming for his face. Then, there was no metal, just something sticky and red covering his hands.

He got me, Ryou thought. I’m done for.

Then, he realized that the boy was on the ground. He was no longer moving and there was a pencil wedged in his forehead, five small holes neck to it from where Ryou had stabbed him again and again.

The teachers rewarded Ryou that weekend with a chance to visit the advanced classes. There, he learned to load, aim, and shoot a gun for the first time.

 

* * *

 

“Whatever you do, remember that I always come back for you,” Bakura whispered in Ryou’s ear in the car. Then, he slid a hand between his legs and a knife into his boot.

It was both a promise and a threat. Sell me out and I’ll back to make you regret ever being born.

They’d been on the road for an hour and, for the last twenty, Ryou hadn’t taken his finger off the trigger of his gun. In the city, you didn’t know who was watching you, tracking down your license plate number, and pinpointing your location using security cameras. 

His job was to protect Bakura. When they got into the city, every pedestrian could have been hiding a pistol in his waistband. Ryou kept his hand on his gun.

He didn’t know where they were headed until they pulled up right to Parliament. The whole place was teeming with guys in black suits and shades. Bakura, dressed in red, grinned in the sun. Instantly, Ryou was looking down the barrels of twelve guns. He counted them in less than a second.

The flat of Bakura’s hand on Ryou’s back told him to relax. Then, both his hands were up and Bakura was looking way too happy.

“My name is Bakura, the one and only. No last name needed, I’m sure. Both my hands are up, aren’t they? How about putting some of those away? Don’t worry about a thing - I’m turning myself in - you’ll all get promoted to lieutenant colonels! How about that? It’s your lucky day!”

Three of them, looking suspicious and fearful, came over and put handcuffs on Bakura’s wrists.

“Who’s this?” one asked about Ryou.

Bakura didn’t even look at him. “He’s my bodyguard. You can do what you want to him.”

 

* * *

 

The first time they did it, the first time they crossed the line, they were four days into self detainment and everyone was starting to lose it. Ryou had been with Bakura for four months at that point. The day Bakura picked him up from Kaiba, they’ve jet off into the sunset and started Bakura’s crazy project of killing every government official in the country.

Ryou hadn’t questioned him. When no one was looking, Bakura would grin at him like he wanted him to say something hilarious. He never did.

After they assassinated a senator, they’re locked themselves in a basement. Ryou was nodding off, hugging a machine-gun, and sitting across from the door when he looked up and saw Bakura watching him and smiling.

There was hardly a time when he’d look up and Bakura wouldn’t be smiling. He smiled when the sun rose, when there was a traffic accident that resulted from a pile up of ten cars, and he smiled especially wide when he told Ryou to put a bullet in Shadi’s skull.

The senator they killed was high profile - someone who had been dropping hints of running for executive office. It wasn’t the first time Ryou had done something like this. He’d known what to do almost right away and got them to their safe house in almost 25 minutes, despite a deep gouge in his shoulder. Bakura laughed the entire time, even when they had to switch the sport car for a delivery van. Once they were inside, Ryou barricaded the windows, made sure his clips of bullets were within reach and kept his eyes on the front door for two straight days.

“You should take a break,” Bakura said, coming up to Ryou and sitting down next to him. “A little cat nap. Unwind a little. You look tense.”

Ryou wanted to tell him to go fuck himself. He didn’t even know why he was killing every politician that meant something or what they had done to piss Bakura off.

It was too warm in the house. They hadn’t had the time to set up electricity.

“You should take it off,” Bakura said about Ryou’s bulletproof vest. He was sitting too close. No one got this close to Ryou, except in hand to hand combat.

Then, Bakura reached over, took Ryou’s hair out from its ponytail, and looked at Ryou like he wanted him, face lined and flat.

No one looked at Ryou like that. He was a weapon that just happened to come in the shape of a human body. He was dispensable and you didn’t look at dispensable things at all. Even in school, after what happened with Jounouchi, everyone stay away from him. No one wanted to hook up with the guy who killed his own boyfriend, or fuck buddy, or whatever.

Ryou didn’t stop Bakura, though, when he ran his fingers through his hair. 

“C’mon,” Bakura cajoled, his usual demeanor back. “It doesn’t have to be romantic or anything. We’re here for a few more days, and I’m getting bored. All you do is sit and watch the door. Don’t you want to have some fun? I can make you feel good, if you catch my drift. I can make you lose your motherfucking _marbles_.”

Like the entire police force wasn’t trying to track them down and execute them for the murder of several high up people. Like Ryou wasn’t just a weapon who would be quietly and immediately executed for the wrong move. Like Bakura wasn’t a crazy person.

But Ryou wasn’t dragged into this against his will. He wasn’t the kind of person who’d walk into something unawares. He always saw everything that was going on around him, down to the expressions people made when they thought no one was looking, knew had to calculate outcomes up to five improbables, and he also knew how to take care of things in the most efficient and ruthless ways possible.

Ryou tilted his head, grabbed Bakura’s head, and kissed him with tongue and teeth.

Bakura kissed gently, like there was a secret on the tip of his tongue. Everything was an invitation on him, suggestive of something whether it was intentional or not.

“Damn, man,” Bakura grinned when they pulled apart. “And I was thinking we’d just jerk each other off.”

 

* * *

 

Jounouchi and Ryou started fooling around when they were both fourteen and in a combat class together. On the first day, they picked partners. No one ever picked Ryou until that day. Jounouchi was the nicest one in the class.

They were never regular kids. They were abandoned kids training to become soldiers. KaibaCorp gave them food, shelter, and an upbringing for their unconditional loyalty.

They didn’t fight like regular kids either. Kids like them tore at each other until someone was almost dead. If the teachers thought you weren’t fighting hard enough, you would get kicked out. If you were kicked out, you probably died somewhere on the streets hungry and alone.

Jounouchi didn’t go easy on Ryou but he laughed every time he was punched in the face. Then, he swung a leg out that got Ryou on the chest and they were toppling over each other. When they were on the ground, Jounouchi held out a hand. Ryou’s was in it.

Then, he kneed Ryou in the groin and flipped them over.

They fooled around in the locker rooms, tucked away in corners. Neither of them lasted very long and they only needed a few minutes to make a day seem slightly sunnier. Jounouchi wasn’t alone like Ryou was. He had friends - Yugi, Honda, and Anzu. No one messed with either of them - Jounouchi because of his gang and Ryou because of who knows why. He spent that year walking around looking for blonde hair and closet doors.

At the end of the year, they announced that only half the class would proceed to the next grade. Then, they locked them in a room with their sparring partner and told them that only one of them had the right to walk out of there on both legs.

“They’re fucking with us, don’t you see?” Jounouchi pleaded.

Of course Ryou could see that. He was always amenable but never was he gullible. 

“That’s why they didn’t do anything about, you know, you and me. They _knew_ , they _had_ to fucking know. They wanted it to come down to this. I need to fucking sit down.” Jouncouhi was talking in circles and walking in circles. As he paced, he turned his back to Ryou for a second that seized Ryou with terror.

_He trusts me enough to turn his back on me._

Once Ryou knew that, he knew that Jounouchi didn’t stand a chance.

“Hey, Jou,” he said softly.

His face was unassuming when Ryou took the Exacto knife he’d slid between the seam of his sleeve and sliced through his left eye, licked his lips, and again through his neck.

No one minded that Ryou took the exercise slightly too far. Jounouchi wasn’t the only one that wasn’t able to remain in the program, just the one with the most severe injuries. 

After that, Ryou went into the tenth grade and avoided closets. The school saw something i him and put him in an accelerated program with a focus on psychological manipulation. Once Ryou completed school, he became a part of KaibaCorp’s elite forces. Chaos broke out the very next day.

 

* * *

 

They locked Ryou and Bakura up separately, which was a mistake. Ryou could count four guards outside of Bakura’s cage before they pulled him down the hall and gave him a cell with a window. Mistake number two. The cell had a biological key — the eye print of one of the guards. Mistake number three.

Ryou laid low because he didn’t do anything of his own volition. Bakura hadn’t told him to move but he could, if he needed to. He could break the panes of the window with his palm and use it to cut someone’s jugular. He could dislocate his own shoulder and pick the lock with the pocketknife in his shoe. 

Nobody touched him until the fifth day and Ryou understood why. Bakura had told them to do whatever they wanted to him as a kind of protection. If they assumed that he was disposable, they would go after Bakura first.

On the fifth day, the guard who had the key came into the room with a smile.

Phase one of any interrogation was sickly sweet. They would try to buy Ryou out or make him an offer too good to pass up. Ryou had spent his entire freshman year of high school in a torture chamber. He knew the entire drill by now, every type of scalpel, drill, and scaper, what they did, and how they felt. He'd been shut in the dark for weeks and left in the cold until he'd almost lost a foot. He was completely and utterly ready.

The first day, the man offered him cash and Ryou stayed silent. The second day, he offered protection and Ryou began to display tell tale signs of interest while purposefully maintaining his silence. Then, on the third day, the man offered him revenge and Ryou waited for a beat, then said, “Go on.”

The man smiled and, by the fourth day, Ryou was offered a coke, which he knocked over with hands still handcuffed together. After a brief moment of hesitation, the man reached inside his pocket and took out a key.

As soon and his hands were free, Ryou knocked the man out and gouged out his eyes. Then got himself the hell out of there.

He’s taken the eyes with him before shutting the door. Without the eyes he needed to unlock the door, the man would die inside. The thought thrilled Ryou inexplicably.

When he found Bakura, he was beaten black and blue in the interrogation room but still smiling around a mouthful of blood. “You’re right on time!” he shouted, screaming in laughter, like he just couldn’t believe it.

When Ryou turned, he wanted to laugh. There he was - the new King himself. Aknamkanon - his chief of armed forces from his military days, right there in the flesh.

 

* * *

 

No one remembered the coup - at least not those who had been a part of it. History was rewritten well by those who had seized the throne with the help of Ryou and everyone else in his unit.

All Ryou remembered was that he was on the team to capture the King. He was in the air when the seven nuclear weapons Aknamkanon detonated on seven cities went off. They had orders to pick off anyone they’d somehow missed.

They didn’t miss anyone. The whole city was rubble and it seemed like the bodies had simply evaporated. That was why no one noticed the girl on the ground until she was firing at them with a machine gun.

She was taken out right away. She was wearing a pencil skirt and a blouse soaked in blood - office wear. Maybe she was a pencil pusher on the wrong side.

Overhead, the noontime sun waited.

“Spread out,” Ryou ordered his men. “Kill anything that moves.”

After they were done, the king’s brother _was_ the new king.

 

* * *

 

Bakura was still screaming as Ryou took out each and every guard that rushed around the corner. The two who had stood shoulder to shoulder with Aknamkanon were slumped across the floor. One of them had a piece with a full clip and the other only had half a round remaining.

Ryou couldn’t miss a single shot and he didn’t.

Deeper in the room, Bakura was playing with the new king like he wasn’t playing with his food.

“Oh my god,” he giggled, right in Aknamkanon’s face. “The big cheese himself. You know, I wonder about you. I truly do. You’ve been on my mind for a long time, if I can be honest with you. I didn’t think that they’d really bring you here, just because little ole me begged them to. Not even when I cried and cried on the sixth day when they were pushing my head under a big bucket of water did I think that, someday, I’d really be here, sitting with you in the _flesh_.”

Aknamkanon was livid. His guards were just around the corner but Bakura had just felt up Ryou’s ass and down his leg as he crouched near the doorway, aiming and shooting every now and then, and pulled out a long blade from his shoe.

“You won’t get away with this, B-Bakura.”

Bakura turned devious after that and mock sighed tragically. “I suppose you’re right aren’t you? There’s people who get away with things, like you and mass murder, and there’s people who don’t get away at all, like me and trying to run away from my problems. I think you’re just discovered one of the founding principles of the world.”

There was a crash. Aknamkanon had fallen out of his chair and was scrambling near the exit. If he got too close to Ryou, he might miss a shot.

Bakura’s foot against his head made sure that wasn’t a possibility.

“Y-you don’t know what you’re talking about!” Aknamkanon screeched, and to the door, “Help! Help! Help me!”

“On the contrary. I think it’s you who doesn’t know what I’m talking about,” Bakura said thoughtfully. “Let me enlighten you.”

As he spoke, Bakura stood on Aknamkanon’s hands and started to carve out parts of his face.

“I love your face. I recognized it the instant I saw you today. Do you remember the look you gave me back in Kul Elna? I was just a wee brat and you were cooking something that smelled atrocious. I was with my family, then. Maybe you don’t remember me,” Bakura said regretfully.

Ryou could barely hear anything over the screams. When Bakura kicked something over to him, he saw that it was a nose.

“You were there with your little soldiers, looking for survivors and gunning them down. See something move and ‘pew! pew!” everyone’s dead. It sure looked like fun. It looked like one of those video games I used to play. 

I was hiding under my mother’s body and keeping very quiet so you probably don’t remember me. Do you remember how, after the explosion, everyone’s skin peeled off? One of my legs was _shredded_ but, still, I was a very good little boy. I didn’t cry, or say hi, or talk to strangers.”

“Please! S-stop! I remember! I remember!”

“Say it again.”

Aknamkanon’s voice sounded strange with his nose, like he was on television and the signal wasn’t too good. “I remember you, I remember you…I know that name, Kul Elna.”

“Keep talking.”

“We had to test the nuclear missiles we used on the capital. There was a town of a hundred and five days drive from the nearest city — easy to cover up. I remember.”

Bakura snarled. “Of course you fucking remember, you piece of shit.” He stabbed Aknamkanon through the ear, through the throat, the solar plexus, and in the crotch. All the chakras — every single one of them.

 

* * *

 

Ryou orchestrated his team’s cleanup of the coup immaculately. After the job was done, he went back on the market. KaibaCorp had rented two third of his entire army out to the new regime and the testing they did on the soldiers who came back disqualified half that number for future use. The ones who failed were sentenced to immediate deletion upon arrival. Ryou did not fail.

First, they were put in stalls where psychoanalysts asked them a range of questions and gauged how long it took them to blink before answering each one. When the man who went before Ryou started crying after they asked him whether he remembered the faces of those he killed, they activated the detonation device implanted in his neck.

“Name?”

“Ryou. Number 3040.”

“Title?”

“Major.”

“What were your orders, major?”

“I was on the cleanup division. We were sent in immediately after the bombs to take care of loose enemy factions.”

“How many did you kill?”

Ryou halfway hesitated, then decided that it wasn’t in his interest to. “Personally or net?” he asked to make up for his mistake.

“Personal fatalities.”

“18.”

“Were all the targets armed?”

“Three were.”

“Then why kill the rest? They posed no immediate danger.”

Without moving his face, Ryou looked his analyst in the eye. “I was just following orders.”

 

* * *

 

When Bakura was finished with Aknamkanon, he stood up and wiped the knife on his shirt. “Now, my sweet little Ryou, how are we getting out of this one?”

Ryou shot down one more guard. He would run out of bullets eventually. “Does he have a gun?”

“Revolver. Useless piece of shit.”

“Give it to me. I scaled the building before I got here. There’s a fire exit near the office district made of glass. You’ll have to take a roundabout route but I’ll walk you through right now.”

Bakura picked up the revolver but didn’t hand it over. “I’m not leaving without you.”

“I won’t talk. I’m better than them. If I do, you can pull the trigger on me anytime.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” said Bakura casually. “He was the last one. The last kill. I don’t have plans to make any more trouble, to get up to any more of my never ending nonsense. You know that. You don’t have anything to talk about.”

Ryou didn’t buy his shit. “The safest way out of here is to do as I say.”

Behind him, Bakura crouched down and put laid his head against Ryou’s back. “What about what I say? Can’t we just do what I want for once?”

They’d never stopped doing what Bakura said, ever since they met. Ryou were born to follow orders and, for the past five years as they zig zagged through this two man suicide mission, it was Bakura’s orders he followed.

“What do you want to do?” Ryou asked.

“I say,” Bakura announced, the way he did when he was making it up as he went along, “That there’s roughly a fifty guards on pay role in this high security compound where they only take the most special criminals and keep them locked up so well the job’s gotten boring. So, out of that fifty, there’s at _most_ twenty on payroll today. That gun you’re holding holds ten rounds. Now, to deal with the Spec Ops probably speeding their ways towards us right this moment, we’re going to need a lot more guns. That means that your detour won’t work, oh no it won’t. We’ll have to run the gauntlet, so to speak.”

Ryou licked his lips and measured the distance to where the hallway turned. “So you’re saying that I should run head first into an unknown number of enemies in rank, who I may not have enough bullets to neutralize, gather as many firearms as possible, and find a new route through enemy territory, after which the city’s entire police force will have surrounded the building?”

In his ear, Bakura laughed softly and it felt like a tease against Ryou’s entire body. “That’s the most I’ve ever heard you talk. And you’re right about everything, except that I’ll be right there with you.”

“With a revolver.”

Bakura pushed a lock of hair that had fallen out of Ryou’s ponytail out of his face and behind an ear. “I just don’t want to have to come back for you. I really don’t. It’s such a pain in the ass, you don’t even know.”

 

* * *

 

They’d met in KaibaCorp’s downtown showroom, where there was a entire floor dedicated to one display room. Rarely did anyone have the liquid cash to _buy_ one of Kaiba’s soldiers. Entire governments had to settle for rentals.

The week before, Bakura had pulled fifty highly publicized scams, robberies, and hacks. Everyone in the world knew him as the man who held an unthinkable amount of wealth and had every authority in every country out for blood.

Kaiba set the meeting right away. The company wasn’t political. In fact, they had served the last regime well. The only thing that mattered to him was currency and a lot of it. It didn’t matter whether Bakura’s sources were legit because, once he had a solider, no one could take him out. This was the transaction that would _make_ him legitimate. No one, historically, has even taken out a number of KaibaCorp’s finest.

In the display room, Ryou felt like a mannequin, standing with his back straight and hands at his side — eyes trained on the wall opposite him. Bakura walked in, all swagger and teeth and gold, and Kaiba turned his nose up in distaste.

“One of our best,” he introduced Ryou as. “Tried and proven. He led a team in the last rebellion and took out 129. Graduated the highest in his class, with a major in Tactical Strategy.”

“When is strategy not tactical?” Bakura asked, staring at Ryou.

Kaiba looked down at him again. “You know our reputation. If he doesn’t perform as promised, you’ll get your money back.”

“If he doesn’t perform as promised,” echoed Bakura, “I’ll be dead.”

“He can hold off five capable men in a fist fight for more than an hour,” Kaiba rattled off. “His reflexes are fast enough to dodge artillery fire 75% of the time. In any given situation, he’s able to assess and build a working battle plan in under a minute. He can kill a person in 22 different ways without the use of weapons, and he can survive for six months under torture if you need him to. Not only that, he’s been trained to die on command. You want him or not?”

It wasn’t a hard sell. Bakura had barely made it to the secure facility alone and didn’t stand a chance of getting out without Ryou by his side.

“He’s pretty cute,” Bakura said. 

The awkward silence that followed was profound.

“If you’re worried about safety,” Kaiba went on, as if Bakura hadn’t said anything at all, “Every KaibaCorp unit is equipped with a device close to the jugular. Press this button,” he showed Bakura on a slim remote, “and the device will kill him instantly. It doesn’t matter what you have planned. He’ll obey. There’s no such thing as having a moral objection with my men.”

Getting too close, Bakura studied every detail of Ryou’s face. “He’s the real deal, isn’t he? What’s your name, sweetheart?”

 

* * *

 

They did it — Bakura’s crazy plan. Once they were out, they hijacked a police car before any more officers could get within range. It took Ryou’s entire field of training and driving against traffic on a freeway for forty miles to get them to a car rental.

The attendant gave them a Camry while Ryou calculated the percentage of them getting out alive. 

“You’re shot,” Bakura told him. “Look at your arm.”

“It just grazed me. It’s not my blood.”

Bakura shook his head. “No, look. It got you. Right here.”

The attendant came back the the car and Ryou went to the driver’s side automatically but was pushed away by Bakura.

“I’ll drive,” he said. “You tell me where to go and how to get there.”

He wasn’t laughing for once, or smiling. His face looked the way it did right before Ryou kissed him the first time. 

“We have to get out of the county first. Then the country,” was all Ryou said.

Bakura backed out and hit the speed limit going west. “Hold onto your arm,” he said in a serious voice Ryou rarely heard him use. They drove onto an empty highway, into an emptier road, and off the tracks into the woods where a brook babbled towards the ocean. This wasn’t where they were supposed to go.

“Give me your arm,” Bakura said, voice light again, and took out a pocketknife.

“I can do it myself,” Ryou told him as he made no move to prevent Bakura from pulled his arm into his lap and rolling the sleeves, stiff with dried blood, up carefully. The extraction hurt like hell but Ryou didn’t make a sound.

Even if it hurt, no one had bothered before. For the first time in his life, someone was taking care of Ryou. Someone didn’t just care about what he could do with his fists or a knife, but that he didn’t die from blood loss or an infected wound. Someone chose the riskier route, because it meant getting both of them out. They took time that they didn’t have to dress a wound on a solider whose only job was to die without betraying a battle tactic. It was a wonder to behold.

With a piece of his shirt, Bakura tied up Ryou’s wound and grinned at him goofily. “We should probably check the rest of your body for more bullet holes, since you didn’t seem to feel that one going in.”

With both hands, Ryou grabbed Bakura by the neck until they were kissing and panting, Bakura laughing and laughing and laughing. 

Before they left, Bakura gave him a look like a gambler makes when he’s about to put his house on the line. “One more thing,” he said and reached into his pocket for the slim remote that Kaiba had given him.

Ryou held his breath.

As they sped out, Bakura threw the thing into the water and Ryou turned to watch it wash away for only a few seconds before it was out of reach and on its way to one of the seven seas.

**Author's Note:**

> This was heavily inspired by Origin of Symmetry by hallo catfish (ryuujitsu), which everyone should read. I just love the cold, robot like, extremely capable, and kind of scary Ryou in the story and the Bakura who is just up to no good. After reading that fic, this is what came into my head. So, this fic is like a tribute in a way.
> 
> I still have to work on my Bakura characterization more. I want him to be funny in a grotesque way. I'm happy to have something to focus on as I come back to fanfiction after a break.
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this :)


End file.
